


Deep End

by writer_by_the_window



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Threats of Violence, Unresolved Romantic Tension, buckle up boys, takes place during season 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-13 19:27:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28908567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writer_by_the_window/pseuds/writer_by_the_window
Summary: "What are you doing here?"Truthfully, Lonnie didn't know.Slightly canon-divergent; takes place during Season 4 after their initial throwdown encounter/Catra's breakdown. What if Lonnie had had unrequited feelings for Catra? And what if Lonnie realizes that Catra's abuse of authority has gone too far?
Relationships: Adora/Catra(past) (She-Ra), Catra/Lonnie (She-ra)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 22





	Deep End

“What are you doing here?”

Truthfully, Lonnie didn’t know.

What was there to gain from this? She thought, standing at the base of the steps. Catra glowered above her, face twisted into a snarl, claws out and shining like blades in the half-darkness. It almost made Lonnie want to laugh---what violence and anger had done to them both. Except while vengeance and power had propelled Catra ever higher, Lonnie was still here, groveling at the fucking bottom. What a joke.

Except the punchline this time was the knife tucked neatly into Lonnie’s belt.

If Catra suspected anything, it would be for Lonnie to draw the gun out of her holster. Lonnie had thought about it, going over her plan half-starved in trenches with Kyle and Rogelio. No. If Lonnie had to kill Catra, it would be personal, intimate. She would watch the light fade out of her eyes, not out of vengeance but out of pity. She would puncture her with one hand and cradle her with another.

Lonnie took a deep breath, thinking of golden-haired, toothy-grinned young Adora, always with Catra trailing after her. For a moment, she wondered how she would explain this act of violence to their younger selves.

Then she pushed that pain aside and ascended the steps into Catra’s pod.

“We need to talk,” Lonnie said, feeling the sharp cool of steel against her rigid spine.

“There’s no time to talk,” said Catra. Her voice was smooth and impartial as glass. So much for reminiscence and nostalgia. “We’re on a mission, Lonnie, and I need you out in the field.”

“How many times are we going to have this conversation? We’re tired, Catra. No, we’re _exhausted_. I’ve tried and tried to make you understand.”

“What I don’t understand is your attitude,” Catra snapped. “We’re finally winning! We’re closer than we’ve ever been to crushing the princesses under our heel, and soldiers like you are holding us back. If you would just stay at your post and bring supplies in your post, we’d---”

Lonnie leveled a cold stare, and surprisingly Catra fell silent.

“Kyle is dying,” she said slowly.

A moment of silence rendered the distant firing of cannons ultra-clear.

“You’re lying.”

“Then comm him,” Lonnie said. “See for yourself.”

“That can’t be true.” Catra paced back and forth past her mysteriously-broken screens. “If he just keeps pushing a little longer, then---”

“Princess damn near blew his leg off. Got infected. Don’t try to argue with fucking _science_ , Catra.”

In the darkness, Catra’s eyes widened ever so slightly, and she turned her head away. Did she think Lonnie couldn’t see the shame, the regret, the anger? She almost felt bad for lying.

But this, this single moment of deception, was what Catra needed so desperately. And if she didn’t bend… there was no hope for her any longer.

“Let us pull back,” Lonnie whispered. “Save him. Please.”

“You’re supposed to be a soldier,” Catra said, hands shaking. “Don’t get too sentimental. What, is he your boyfriend or something? Just get a medic.”

“There are no more medics. They’re either dead or behind enemy lines.”

Lonnie bit her tongue, scraped her teeth together, anything to tamp down the rising welt of rage inside her throat. She didn’t recognize this monster. Gone was the girl she’d stared at during training, gone was that fiery determination and lovely jagged smile.

This was snakeskin. This was a husk.

Suddenly, she couldn’t stop herself from saying the words that had burned inside of her for years.

“I used to love you.”

Catra did not turn back to face her; in fact, she bent her neck further, claws clutching at the table.

“I find that hard to believe,” she muttered. “You always used to make fun of me behind my back to Kyle and Rogelio.”

“I was jealous,” Lonnie said. “Of your talent. Of Adora.”

“Well, look at us now,” Catra drawled.

“Everything I did when we were younger, I did because I wanted you to notice me.” Lonnie rubbed a thumb against the hilt of her knife. “And yet you never have. I’m expendable to you, aren’t I?”

“You all are,” Catra said, whipping around to bare her teeth. “You’ve never done anything to make yourselves indispensable. Not like I have.”

“Face it, Catra,” Lonnie murmured. “You’re a doormat. You let people walk all over you for a chance at success. I might not be as powerful or strong as you, but at least I’m not so fucking _malleable._ ”

“Fine.” Catra’s shoulders hunched painfully for a moment, and Lonnie winces, almost allowing guilt to seep into her bones. “I’ll let you rest. Since you clearly think so highly of me as your commander.”

“When we were smaller,” Lonnie said, “we were meant to be partners.”

“Don’t push your luck. Soldier.”

Catra spat the last word as she tried to slink past, but Lonnie grabbed her shoulder, resisting the urge to give in to the sensation of touch, however rough.

How long had it been since Catra had been held?

“Wait.”

Had Catra said that or had she?

Before Lonnie knew it, Catra had crumpled into her shoulder, a sharp whine breaking from her lips. Instinct took over, and Lonnie wrapped her arms around the other girl, hoisting her up so that Catra’s face was buried in her collarbone. Small bursts of electricity crackled in her blood, but she tried desperately to ignore them.

This wasn’t going according to plan.

“Are you---” Lonnie started, but she was quickly interrupted by a sound she had never heard in her life.

Catra began to cry.

These, Lonnie thought, were the tears of a broken thing.

“Kyle will be okay,” Lonnie whispered as they sank to the floor.

“I’m not,” Catra said with a cracking sob. “I don’t recognize myself anymore.”

“I don’t recognize you, either.” Lonnie couldn’t bring herself to lie again.

“I don’t know what to do, Lonnie,” Catra said. “Everyone’s left me. Everyone. Scorpia, Double Trouble, Shadow Weaver, Adora---”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” Lonnie grumbled, “but I haven’t left yet.”

“That’s different. You’re different.”

Lonnie let out a bitter laugh, all the while cradling Catra closer as she tipped her head up. “Because I’m indispensable.”

“You’re a constant. You’re loyal. As much as I hate to admit it, you’re _strong_.”

“Stronger than you?”

“Don’t push it, Lon.”

They shared their first laugh together in years, tucked under the coming darkness. Lonnie felt the knife’s hilt digging into her back, but she took the sensation as a promise.

If Catra could get better, then so could she.


End file.
